Loki Falling
by keznik
Summary: Loki is narcissistic - but this is new!


Chapter One – The Fall of a King

In The Meadow

Loki violently awoke coughing, struggling to get his breath. Blood splattering against his hand as he held it against his mouth. His chest felt heavy and he took stock of his battered body and compiled an inventory of each pain. He prioritised the most serious and called upon his magic to knit together his broken pelvis, inflate his left lung and by far the direst injury, and repair his ruptured aorta.

Once he felt he was able, he pulled himself up to a seated position and looked around him. He knew he had fallen and had landed in a golden meadow. The grasses, bleached by the sun but he could make out odd snippets of colour. He concentrated on focusing his tired eyes and saw small flowers in between the tall grasses. The floral scents washed over him and he looked up to the blue sky.

"Why did I fall, and where from?" he asked himself.

His voice surprised him with the gravelly texture. There was still blood in his mouth and he tried to swallow but his throat was dry and sore.

His head ached but he knew he had to get up and find shelter. The sun was beating down fiercely on him and encased in his metal and leather armour he was starting to overheat. He naturally preferred cooler climates and his magic had been waned by the healing he had performed after he had landed.

He gathered his feet under his pelvis and used his hands to push himself upwards. The field he had landed in was large but he could make out an old barn to the North. He headed towards it and each muscle complained as he pushed forward with every stride.

As he walked he tried to recall what had caused his fall. He remembered that he had fallen through a large metal hole far above him in the sky but he just couldn't pull the memory before that.

Suddenly, a gun-shot cracked around the meadow and a murder of crows took to the sky with loud caws and Loki immediately collapsed to his knees with his head protected by his hands. His eyes shut tightly as his memory rushed back to him.

A face flickered in front of his closed eyes. Dark hair and wide knowing eyes belonging to a dark suited man. He was holding a recently discharged weapon, slumped down against a metal wall, blood streaked above him. He was gravely hurt and speaking to another man in the grey prison room to Loki's left. The room was large with a large circular hole in the centre exposing the outside. He knew he was in Fury's ridiculous vessel. The very idea of putting a ship in the air with a monster pretending to be a man was absurd. His momentary lack of concentration caused him to slide across the floor where he lay and he realised that he was dangerously close to the edge. The air was pulling at his coat, trying to tear him away from the air-ship.

He willed himself to look at the man the Agent was addressing. A shape was clearing and the man was of a similar stature to himself and the colours of his clothes was also similar. Loki screwed up his eyes tightly and desperately concentrated to make the fuzzy image clearer. The last thing he saw as the wind succeeded in pulling him from the air-ship caused his eyes to open wide and he gasped. The memory had hit him like a Bilgesnipe bull running at full pace. A face and a single word etched to his consciousness.

* * *

In The Air-Ship

Loki held his abdomen where Agent Coulson had discharged his bizarre weapon. The discomfort was dispersing but it had left an unusual feeling behind where the weapon had thrown his across the prison room and through a wall. He had already tested his foolish brother's immortality by releasing the glass cell made for the green monster, from the air-ship and the rush of the air created by the gaping hole was roaring past the wounded wall. He gathered himself and rose up to his feet, his hand still grasped tightly around the handle of the sceptre. He stepped back through the gap his body had made and looked towards the agent that had fired that bizarre weapon.

He nearly missed that Agent Coulson was still alive and was petulantly telling him that he wasn't going to succeed as he lacked conviction. He found himself bored by the Agent and caught a flash of black and green out of the corner of his eye. He turned his attention to the man desperately close to the edge of the drop area assuming it was another SHIELD agent and getting ready with a sneer and an insult, when he noticed his features.

The face was exactly the same as his own. He quickly checked that he didn't have any copies projecting and was shocked into hesitating for a moment as he realised that the Loki he was looking at was no replica but a sentient version of himself that had somehow been created. The other Loki's confused expression matched his own and he reached forward to try and grab his hand. He was too late.

"No!" he shouted to the other Loki as he fell rapidly becoming a dot in the distance.

"What in the Nine Realms!" he exclaimed and got up slowly from the edge. He smoothed down his coat, and walked off to meet Barton as arranged, thoughts running in to one another as he tried to work out how there could be another...Loki?

* * *

**Authors note:**

First fic and unsure on direction just at mo – please review.

Re-writing, thanks for the reviews, learning experience.

I own nothing, Marvel owns everything.


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